Atonement
by WhatTheHellHero
Summary: One night at the camp, someone is angry at the leadership of the Warden, and ready to betray him.


Atonement

**I didn't exactly look at the Codex before this, so just bear with any problems.**

Wynne awoke immediately from her light slumber when there was a loud –_crack! -_ outside her tent. She cursed, and grabbed her staff laying beside her. _Darkspawn! _Once she had the familiar feel of the oak staff, she pulled herself from her blanket, and was ready to jump out the door screaming like a banshee when she calmed herself, and moved the tent flap back, poking her head out.

Instead of the companions arming themselves against the darkspawn, they were merely glancing over in this direction. Wynne followed their eyes over to the communal boxes set by the emissaries. Sten was standing there, staring right at the Grey Warden.

Wynne raised an eyebrow, and stepped out of her tent, her robes scratching at her skin. If there was one thing she hated about the Circle, it was the robes.

The emissaries were staring over at them, and Sten was certainly holding something dark in his eyes. Then she noticed the thing that caused the crack. A large broadsword was embedded in one of the communal boxes, splintered and shattered. It was the one for Redcliffe, and the coins earned from the dwarven merchants were spilling out of the box.

Sten pointed at the sword. "Your knights can have my sword. I do not need it, for we are doing nothing."

Wynne began to step forward, leaning on her staff as the cold chill bit at her old bones. The Grey Warden lifted his hand up at her though. He turned back to Sten. "Sten, what are you talking about?"

Sten's eyes hardened. "There is no reason to carry a sword anymore. We are clearly not fulfilling their purpose."

The Grey Warden curled his lip upward. "You're joking right?" He was greeted by another cold hard stare. The Warden cast his eyes downward. "Alright, stupid question."

Sten pointed back towards the boxes with his iron gauntlet. "There is your only contribution towards the battle with the Blight. And a collection of coins, runes, and pretty stones are not going to do anything about the darkspawn."

Wynne could not resist stepping up. "Look at these emissaries! They are here to rearm the soldiers this Warden has rallied."

The bronzed qunari shook his head. "The darkspawn have been allowed to slaughter while this Warden is content to simply bed the witch and hide his head in the dirt."

Wynne glanced toward the Warden. She wasn't blind, but she thought he hadn't taken it that far with an apostate. Surely he couldn't have…

But the Warden's reaction confirmed this. He turned red, and he shook with rage, barely escaping as he lifted his finger at Sten. "You will follow my orders Sten! I am doing my best against the darkspawn!" He slowly said, anger creeping into his voice.

Sten crossed his arms. "Really? Then go to your armies, and call them into a battle against the darkspawn."

The Warden growled out, "We must deal with Loghain!"

Sten tilted his head. "Fight the darkspawn. He is not important. If you must, simply call him into battle as your ally. Fight against the common enemy."

The Warden broke. He roared at the giant. "I WILL NOT DENY LOGHAIN THE JUSTICE HE DESERVES!"

By this point, everyone began to take a renewed interest in the scene. Morrigan even had looked toward her apparent lover, a hint of interest on her face.

Sten murmured gently. "So you would fight for your selfish desires instead of your duty?"

Wynne noted this comparison. The more angry the Warden got, the louder he grew. Sten on the other hand became more and more quiet, which enraged the Warden.

The Warden threw up his hands, turning around. "I don't need to explain myself to you, you ignorant qunari!"

Sten instantly grabbed the Warden, lifting him into the air. Sten had cold fire in his eyes. The Warden had horrible red flames flickering in his pupils. Wynne attempted to step forward, raising her voice, but Sten nodded towards her, and she stayed back.

Alistair was alternating his gaze from Sten to the Warden, then Sten, then the Warden, then Sten. Finally he settled on staring at the sword. Morrigan was now at the scene, holding her staff lightly, a slight smile on her lips. For what reason Wynne had no idea. The dog that the Warden had was sitting on its haunches, looking up at the two people it revered most in camp. Leliana was staring hard at the giant, menace flashing dangerously like a dagger. Zevran was apparently trying to talk Oghren into a bet over who would win a fight, but Oghren loudly belched and rolled his head away, dead drunk.

Sten slowly, with a strict calm in his voice, murmured, "Never insult my people again." He let the Warden go and began to walk past him, away from the camp. The Warden growled, and picked up his sword.

Wynne broke the stunned silence of the companions. "Calm down Warden!" But it was too late. The Warden swung his sword at the giant. Instantly, Sten turned around, sidestepped the swing, and smashed his fist into the Warden.

The Warden, strong he may be, was not strong enough to withstand a punch from the incredible power of the qunari man, and he collapsed on the ground, spitting blood. Leliana was stepping forward now, pulling out her dagger, but Alistair stopped her. "I…I think this needs to happen."

Sten stared down at the Warden. "I will not stab you on the ground, get up and arm yourself Warden." He ordered this quickly, then walked over and pulled his sword from the communal box, the emissaries watching with fear.

The companions backed up as the Warden pulled himself to his feet, locking his jaw in place. The Warden growled at the now armed Sten. "You will regret this qunari." He held his shield high, sword in his hand.

Sten sighed. "I will earn my atonement through death in battle, no matter the enemy."

The Warden roared out again. "If it is death you want, you can have it!" He charged the giant, swinging his sword in a wide sweep.

Sten stepped back, letting the swing miss, and then slashing downwards at his enemy. The Warden moved his shield up, absorbing the blow. He then stabbed under his shield. Sten sidestepped this too, and then rammed his elbow into the Warden.

Then, the fight descended into simple brutality. The two fought with ferocity that it hurt her head to follow the battle. She simply cringed when a blow hit one of them.

Soon, the Warden collapsed, blood flowing from a cut on his stomach. Sten stared down at his enemy, not with hate, but with simple regret. Leliana stepped forward again, dagger outstretched, and it took Wynne and Alistair to hold her back. Zevran growled and Oghren chuckled, collecting the sovereigns.

Sten held his sword up. "Goodbye Warden. This is for the best."

However, he never stabbed down. Sten suddenly freezed in rigor mortis, his expression caught in stillness. The others stared, and then looked over at Morrigan, pointing her staff at Sten. The Warden looked up at her. Morrigan looked down at him. "Take the man down Warden. Quickly, before the spell fades."

Wynne stepped up, and stared at the Warden too. "You can't! You can't murder him!"

The Warden pulled himself up, and then stared at the frozen qunari. The camp became still.

And then he stabbed his sword into the man. The rigor mortis ended, and Sten unfroze only to gasp as he fell on the sword of the Warden.

Everyone was shocked, except for Morrigan. She nodded, and then walked back towards her tent in the corner.

The Warden stared at Sten gasping on the ground, bleeding, and then walked towards Morrigan, head hanging heavy.

Wynne looked back at Sten, and she bent over, holding her staff at his wounds. Sten looked at her, and raised his arm to stop her.

Alistair understood, and pulled Wynne away, trying not to look at the dying qunari. Zevran showed a look of disgust, and even Oghren was a bit shaken. Leliana whispered a prayer, walking away to tend the fire. Only the dog walked over to Sten, and licked his hands. Sten sighed, and felt the comfort of the only warrior he respected in Fereldan as he died, alone and regretful.


End file.
